


On Your Toes

by Sirca



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 16:16:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3656871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirca/pseuds/Sirca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fiona and Rhys share a moment alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Your Toes

**Author's Note:**

> Pre-established romance stuff. Thanks for checking out my long winded rambling about these two (they've taken over my everything). Any mistakes are my own.

“Quackery? Really?”

The wanted poster hung in front of them, Fiona’s wry smile and bright eyes staring at him no matter what way he moved. The real Fiona only studied it with mild interest. Her expression was far more subdued. 

“You have to put food on the table somehow,” she offered with an easy shrug of her shoulders. 

Rhys wanted to press. He wanted to know how she managed to be so good at what she did. Practice, he assumed, and no short supply of dimwits to test her skills on. He’d watched her charm money out of a butcher earlier after claiming he’d cut the meat wrong. Even he was convinced of the mistake. She’d smiled easily when she was finished, and pocketed the money. 

After a moment more of studying the poster, Rhys pulled it down. The paper crinkled beneath his hands, and he tossed the ball into the gutter. Pandora’s dry, dusty wind carried it away a few minutes later, tumbling like one of the giant shrubs down the deserted road.

Fiona didn’t comment. Instead, she raised a curious brow.

“What? Bad business for you means bad business for me. Or did you forget about our little carpooling arrangement?” he asked. 

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too sappy with me,” Fiona replied. 

Rhys’ lips curled. So did Fiona’s. 

When they reached the caravan, conspicuously absent of both Vaughn and Sasha— most likely still buying the supplies and fuel they need to keep going, Rhys made a dramatic show of dusting the sand from his collar. 

She watched him struggle in vain for a while, eventually rising from her customary place at the driver’s seat to help him. Her fingertips were feather light when they meet his skin. The more rough swipes were reserved for his clothes. Rhys tried to ignore how her hands lingered long after the sand had been brushed away. 

“So…”

“Don’t ruin the moment yet, lover boy,” said Fiona, her tone dropping. There was a delicious shiver that traveled along the expanse of his throat, down into the pit of his belly. She leaned in close then, onto the tips of her toes. She couldn’t reach him without his help.

When their lips meet, it was slow and unhurried, much like their earlier stroll. She pulled at his lower lip, tugging it between her teeth. The sound he made in the back of his throat was somewhere between a groan and a sigh. He had to admit it; she knew what she was doing. 

The same could not be said for him. His hands fluttered awkwardly, first at the nape of her neck, then her shoulders. With a small noise of impatience, Fiona yanked them to her hips before pressing more closely against him. Her heels arch farther off the ground, and he supports her entirely. 

“Your sister and Vaughn could be back at any moment,” he warned, his voice muffled against her lips.

“We have time,” she responded easily, twisting her hands into his hair.

“Do you really want to scar them for life? I mean, Sasha’s just now warming up to me and—“

“Oh, shut up,” said Fiona, crushing her lips to his. He did so without protest. 

Time passed as they stood flush to one another, the slow intensity of their kiss building. Finally, Fiona pulled away, realizing it can go no further than that. Her hands rest on his shoulders. Rhys eventually moves to take the hat from her head and place it on the table. His earlier awkwardness is replaced by pure emotion. He buried his nose into her hair, gathering her up into his arms.

They swayed together. Time passed, shadows shifted throughout the caravan, and they stayed. Vaughn and Sasha were out of his mind until the sound of scuffling on the metal door woke him from his reverie. 

They disentangled quickly, Fiona making a show of smoothing her hair and replacing her hat. Rhys crossed his arms. 

“What took you so long? I thought we were going to have to send out the search party,” Fiona said. 

“Someone decided he wanted to dig through some scrap.” Sasha rolled her eyes towards Vaughn, who smiled sheepishly. 

“I found some cool Atlas stuff! Man, check this out!” Vaughn held up a piece of twisted metal that had obviously seen better days.

“That’s… what is that?” Fiona asked, feigning interest. 

It was easy to see how she got away with what was on her wanted posters. The attentive gaze, the appropriate quirk of her lips, and never once did she let on to what had happened. Rhys realized she would’ve made a killing in the corporate world. 

As Vaughn rattled on, Fiona shot him a look. Then, she winked. It was a promise to him; there would be more time to spend together eventually. For now, they’d both play it cool.  


Rhys could learn a thing or two from her for the time being.


End file.
